Kill it with fire!
by MChristopher
Summary: Harry Potter develops a new talent, to the detriment of pretty much everyone he meets. A crackfic.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. This fic was inspired by a question I've pondered for awhile now: if you were presented with the power to alter the universe, why would you even possibly consider goofing off rather than developing that talent? Then I lit that idea on fire, and this is the result.

Kill it, Kill it with fire!

A crackfic by MChristopher.

"Well, Uncle," said Harry. "After that thing at the Zoo yesterday, the thing with the hair and the bit with the school roof, I think I've figured out what you've been keeping secret."

"Wh-what?", burbled Uncle Vernon.

"It's quite simple, really. I'm magic." Harry stated calmly, still holding a frying pan filled with bacon.

"Nonsense, boy! There's no such thing as-"

"Oh, sure there is, I've been practicing all week." Harry interrupted, watching as Vernon seemed to cycle through various colors. It was kind of like watching a broken television set, he mused. Vernon just couldn't seem to stay any one hue.

"Boy, you will cease this nonsense and go back to cooking." cried Aunt Petunia.

"Sure thing, Aunty. Extra crispy, coming right up!"

Dudley's piggish little nose seemed to wrinkle, and his beady eyes showed the dim light of an idea, sluggishly uffing its way into his brain. "Mom," he whined. "He's burnt the bacon!"

"No I haven't," replied Harry, "It's barely started cooking."

"Then what's that smell?" asked Uncle Vernon. "Idiot boy! You've left the oven on!"

"Wrong again," Harry said. "You really are slow, aren't you? Didn't I say I've been practicing all week?" There was an ominous pop and sizzle from the frying pan.

"What-what do you mean?" inquired Aunt Petunia.

"Oh, just that I've learned to set things on fire with my mind." Harry replied with a big grin. "It's how I'm cooking the bacon while standing in the dining room."

"There is NO SUCH THING as magic," shouted Vernon.

"I'd think the bacon is evidence enough that you're wrong," said Harry. "But I guess I could arrange for a larger demonstration..."

"Wait, boy, no, that's quite alrig-" said Petunia.

"Huh? What do you-" said Dudley, who had apparently been having trouble following the conversation.

"ARGH!" cried Vernon, his pants suddenly on fire. "Put it out, put it out!" he cried as he ran around the table in circles.

Harry just calmly chomped on a slice of bacon as he watched the show. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier?

"Boy, you'll put that fire out this instant!" said Petunia.

"Can't." replied Harry.

"What do you mean, 'can't'?"

"Simple. I never said I'd learned how to douse fires with my mind, just to set them." Harry said. Hrm, wasn't his mom supposed to have firey red hair? Perhaps Petunia would look better if-

"ARGH!", cried Petunia, her hair suddenly ablaze. She soon joined her husband in racing around the room.

"You stop this right now, freak!" said Dudley, who had finally realized what was happening. Unfortunately it seemed he hadn't yet realized where his complaint would lead to... or maybe he had and was just feeling a little left out? Harry decided to do something to cheer him up.

"ARGH!" cried Dudley, who found that his shoes were slightly smoking. They weren't really on fire, but the poor boy couldn't seem to tell the difference. Oh well. It might not have worked for Dudley, but Harry himself felt much cheerier now.

"Dance, piggies, dance!" Harry laughed.

It was on Harry's birthday a few days later that Albus Dumbledore appeared on their front doorstep.

"Harry, my boy," said the funny looking old man. "I've been so worried about you!"

"Who the heck are you?" Harry asked. Was this his long-lost hobo grandfather?

"Why I'm the headmaster, of course." The headmaster proudly exclaimed.

"The master of what?" Harry interrupted, instinctively taking a step backwards. Bad hobo grandpa!

"ARGH!" cried the headmaster as his beard suddenly went up in flames. With a flick of his wrist the fire was out, but sadly the beard was beyond repair. "Terribly sorry about that," he said. "I don't know what came over me. I haven't had that happen since the last time I babysat Aberfroth."

"That's alright," Harry graciously allowed. After all, what's a little spontaneous immolation between friends? Or, between child and creepy hobo grandfather, as the case may be.

"Now where was I?" muttered Dumbledore, his attention obviously still on the loss of his beard. "Oh, that's right. After hearing the reports, I felt that I should come myself to-" he stopped. "Ah, I see your attention has wandered. Let me just say..."

Harry stopped listening and turned back to his beloved victims-I mean family. Vernon and Petunia had recoiled in fear, but it was his cousin's reaction that Harry was waiting for.

"Six point five," said Dudley.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly.

"It's just that you've done the hair thing before," explained Dudley, who was franticly scrabbling for excuses.

"It was a beard this time, though," explained Harry, slowly. It was best not to confuse the boy, but really... his cousin should know the difference by now.

"Fine then."said Dudley. "Eight." My, my, it looked like the boy's shoes were smoking again... such a dirty habit. "Alright, alright!" cried his cousin. "It was a ten, a ten!"

"Much better." said Harry.

"Hem, hem." coughed Dumbledore. Far away, a pink toad felt the sudden urge to file for trademark infringement.

"As I was saying," he continued. "I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, of course."

"Say what now?" asked Harry, taking another step backwards.

"ARGH!" cried hobo grandpa, his hat suddenly burning. He quickly put it, his face turning red with embarrassment "My, my, that seems to be happening to me a lot today. It must be old age..." he trailed off.

"Well, if you don't know what Hogwarts is, then let me be the first to say this," began Dumbledore. "You're a wizard, Harry." Somewhere else, Rubeus Hagrid felt like he'd been robbed of something.

Meanwhile, back at the Dursley's, Harry's eyes were shining with triumph. "See," he said. "I told you!"

In the kitchen the Vernon and Petunia nodded in sync. Their eyes seemed to dart around the room, waiting for something else to catch fire. Harry felt sad to disappoint them, but it'd be rude to ignore a guest.

"Hem, hem," coughed the headmaster again. "As I was saying, I run a school of magic, where young wizards and witches learn to control their powers."

"Oh, that," said Harry, his expression suddenly contrite. "The letters were a little hard to read with all the soot. Thanks for the barbecue, though."

"Barbecue?" muttered Albus under his breath. "The poor dear be so shocked that he's retreated into hysteria."

Harry politely pretended not to hear the crazy old man talk to himself.

"Ah, well, nevermind that." said Dumbledore as he eyed the Dursley parent's baldness. "Oh, it's so good to see a family getting on so well together!" he exclaimed.

The whole household stared blankly at the obviously crazy old man. Dumbledore failed to notice.

"If you've read the letter then you've obviously been preparing for this day." said the headmaster, cheerfully disregarding his earlier assumptions on Harry's ignorance. "Why, I'd heard that some Muggles shaved their heads when mourning a loss, but I never thought I'd see it for myself."

Here he turned to Harry. "They must love you very much."

It seems his comment was just too much for the Dursley adults, as Petunia dissolved into nervous tears. "Take him, just take him!" she begged. "Send him off to your school and never bring him back!"

"Poor dear, she's obviously distraught at your leaving. Well, let's go then Harry."

"Let me just say goodbye first," Harry said, turning towards his family. "Dudley, remember what I've taught you, I'll see you at the end of the year. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia..."

"ARGH!" cried the Dursley parents, who had suddenly discovered that their chairs had caught fire.

"What a touching farewell," said the Headmaster. His eyes focused on the wizarding world's future savior, Dumbledore paid no attention Vernon and Petunia.

Harry just smiled. It looked like this would be a fun year.

"Oh dear," said the headmaster, suddenly paying attention again. "I do hope whatever problem I have with fire isn't contagious."


End file.
